One's Origins
by Commander Of Brontdor
Summary: Jane's ancestry is revealed in a glittering series of magical journeys as she is guided by Conlis Crasblue, a Sorceress from the fantastical Council of Aeg
1. The Council

If one were to walk into the study at Ferndean, they would see the now married and now wealthy Mrs Rochester; the same Mrs Rochester who was met with scorn and subtle sneers from the social circle she was now thrust into as a low-born former governess, the abandoned daughter of a poor parson and a woman who renounced her class for foolish sentiment for such a man. Bundled over the dusty, thinned paper bound in the volume of _Ones Origins_, she scraped her hair from her eyes. "Who" she muttered, her voice, sad and desperate, was tossed into the silent darkness of the room "who were you..?"

"Jane?" a deep voice, the voice of her husband. A man of decent and respectable birth, to be sure.

"What are you doing? It's past midnight…" he said, pawing his way to where she sat. "Darling" Jane replied, guiding him down beside her "I could not sleep, I thought I'd relish the opportunity of having you quiet for a while" she quipped, giggling lightly. He tipped her into his arms, leaning them both back into the comfortable couch "little witch" he whispered. His hand skimmed the spine of the book she was still holding "What were you reading..?" he asked.

He swept his fingers over the lettering "_Ones Origins_…by… Joseph Abrahams… Wondering about your ancestry, my sweet?"

"Just a little" she replied "Abrahams claims that one cannot truly know oneself without having the clarity of their ancestral footprints available to them, I must say I disagree with him"

"But you are aware of your origins, are you not? Your father was a poor clergyman and your mother a wealthy woman?" said Edward

"That is all my Aunt Reed told me… in truth I have very little information" she sighed

"I have my own assumptions" Edward said, shifting his mouth closer to her ear "I think you are the daughter of fairies, sent by your benevolent magical folk to benefit the poor and needy with your kind and patient spirit… or to rescue sinful old men from hateful purgatory". It was then that Edward began to notice Jane's unusual silence; her breathing having become relaxed, deep and steady with soft little gusts dusting every exhale. With moderate ease (he had become used, especially with regaining the use of one eye, to navigating around the rooms), Edward set her book on the table in front of them and managed to pull the blanket draped over the arm of his chair and swish it over the both of them, kissing the top of her head as she settled back into him and he too, joined her in slumber.

* * *

><p>Conlis Crasblue removed her coned hat as she approached the mouth of the cave. She used her curdled sceptre to flick the snowflakes from her eyebrows before stretching her hand before her, her fingertips just touching the surface of the black veil that drenched the cave interior<p>

"_Kunata Fiathu!"_She commanded, and at her words, the blackness shifted and revealed to her the true contents of the mountainside dwelling as she entered it. At a decadent oval table was seated the members of the Council of Aeg; a congregation of the magical and enchanted dedicated to spreading the knowledge of their own people through both fantastical and ordinary methods. "Late again, Connie" came Dandesun Aldesh, the Dwarf councillor, shaking her rough, copper ringlets in disapproval. "Yes!" exclaimed Basil Kasder, the Vampire Councillor "we wouldn't mind, but it is some of your kind we're meeting for!"

It was then that the head of the council spoke "We meet for all kinds, Kasder" they said sternly, their grey hands placed evenly on the table as they swung to their feet "as all the members of the Council of Aeg are present, our discussions can now commence freely on the subject of a Mrs Jane Rochester" the table broke out in murmurs of comments "plain name" sighed Dandesun "terribly plain"

"She remains unaware of her past" the Head of the Council said, immediately cutting through the ruffle of voices. "The solution is obvious!" cried Elf Councillor Faveen Klee "she must be informed!"

Here the Giant Councillor spoke "Hold your horses, Faveen, we're totally ignorant as to whether or not she can handle such information; humans are not used to such folk as us; when they see us, the claims are disregarded or laughed off, or the human is claimed to be mad, and I am sure we all know what befalls those who are declared so…"

"Corlis" the Head commanded "give us your observations, is there any danger of such an event with her?"

Corlis cleared her throat before answering "I think not; she seems used to the fact that one must keep truths to themselves at times in order to avoid persecution" he said, and from there told the tale of Ms Jane Eyre and her upbringing: the cruelty of the Reeds and the hypocrisy of Lowood school. "She is desirous to know of her family" she added finally, once the rest of the Council had begun turning to each other and whittering out odd little comments.

"Well" the Head declared finally "is she is desirous to know, and if she is of the disposition of keeping such truths to herself; it is our duty to let her reveal to her the truth of her ancestors"


	2. Conlis the Not Ordinary

A flash of light…

"Jane" a voice drifted sleepily through the foggy delirium; the brightness was intense and its heat soothing

"Jaaaane..?" the voice was resonant now and… playful. She awoke.

Her husband's grin sparkled with endearing fondness "hadn't we better do that in our chambers?" he asked. Jane sat up, the footsteps of her dream still impressed upon her. She caught sight of the grandfather clock looming accusingly beside the fireplace. "Half past one" she muttered before returning his smiles "_you_ made a surprisingly comfortable mattress" she smoothed back the flap of his night shirt to stroke his warm chest with her finger. "I was happy to serve you, my mistress" he growled in her ear before he was promptly swatted away and she rose, sweeping the blanket off of them as she did so.

"Let's go to - …"

The blanket swung limply over her left arm, which itself was drooping in shock. As the blanket slid to the floor, Edward whirled round to investigate what Jane was looking at; what had her attention captured and fixed with just permanent terror…

"I didn't intend to alarm" came the crackled but confident and slightly amused voice from the old woman who was perfectly relaxed in an armchair in the far right corner of the room "allow me to introduce myself" she said, standing up "my rudeness has, if you can believe so, _just_ occurred to me! Do forgive me!"

She had the oddest appearance; bedecked in a crimson and navy velvet dress from which worn leather sandals peeped out from, and a shabby but strangely clean white conical hat flapped and twitched with each movement of her head. Tremendous white eyebrows flicked outward in a bird wing like curve from her face, which bore the respectful looking wrinkles of age and experience.

"Who…" Jane stuttered, relaxing somewhat with the comforting cheeriness of the stranger's voice. Edward had also relaxed to an extent; reassured that there was no danger (particularly male danger) that frightened his wife so.

"My name is Conlis Crasblue" she announced "an odd name, to you, I am sure"

"How did you enter this building?" Edward asked slowly.

Conlis heaved herself upward and withdrew her sceptre from a huge pocket in her dress

"I am not ordinary" she declared solemnly, looking at Jane with a strong but gentle seriousness

"and neither" she added "are you".


	3. Gateshead Shack

**Sorry for short chapters; they seem to be my M.O. **

Edward swallowed, repeating slowly to the hypnotically enigmatic intruder "how did you enter this building..?"

Crasblue sighed amusedly, "Walls and doors cannot hold me back… I feel you do not understand". She placed a withered and bony hand outward and proceeded to bend her knuckles backward, whilst maintaining her palm flat into a spider like formation "_Angkat-ah_" she commanded.

Jane and Edward's eyes shot to the carpet… swims of vermillion red drowned the usual worn green of the study's carpet and filled up the entire floor with its colour until, from corner to corner, it was beaming crimson. Upon looking up and returning their gazes to Corlis, they could see wrinkled face crease further with solemnity "now you know exactly what I mean"

"We know you are not ordinary, you have informed us already" said Jane abruptly, prompting another laugh from Crasblue "yes, yes, there's that peculiar wit again! And quite right, too, my dear, but I feel that you still do not know that you are not"

The shrill, spitting voices of Mrs Reed rattled in Jane's ears _"unnatural, devilish thing!"_

"I _am_ normal" Jane reassured emphatically, turning to Edward, who's stony stare remained shot at Conlis "what do you mean when you say this?" he asked. "Mean" she muttered in response "I mean sorcery. Witchcraft and Wizardry; spells and potions and wands and _magic_, and _you_ sir!" she stabbed a wizened finger at Edward "you cannot pretend… you cannot refuse to have _any _belief in what I am saying, not even a winking sliver of comprehension?"

Edward straightened as her demanding voice filled his head.

Here, Crasblue bowed her head, allowed her arm to slide to its place beside her and approached the sofa, painfully considering and choosing the correct vocabulary "please… I realise how miraculously odd my announcements may feel, but… let me show you; join hands with each other".

Jane's curious eyes darted to Edward's in a questioning and reassuring stare. She offered him a keen but quiet hand and he took it

A prickling cold shoot of wind scraped at them as they tensed their connected hands against the sweeping sensation of falling: they were no longer in the safety of their library, or even of Ferndean. In fact, they doubted they were even in England as their drop seemed to quell and they were surrounded instead by the same blooming warmth that curled around Jane in her dream. They eeked open their tired eyes upon hearing Conlis's voice. "And here we are!" she bellowed, raising her arms triumphantly to the great, grey manor that loomed above the patched muddy field they now stood in "the year, my dears, is 1815, and this-"

"Gateshead Hall!" Jane finished, half whispering as her eyes flicked to bottom right hand window, through which she recognised the young woman who sat perched delicately on the elaborate couch; a stout, youthful and attractive woman, from who's head hung tightly curled dark ringlets. "Mrs Reed!" Jane exclaimed, stepping toward the window to peer through the thin glass. "You may approach the window; she cannot see us" said Conlis, ushering them to observe. Edward approached with Jane "this is the woman who treated you with disgust and hatred?" he asked.

"The very same" Conlis rushed before Jane could answer "but come, come, the real surprise awaits just around _that_ hill". Jane and Edward turned to see Conlis trekking with difficulty off toward the only hill that rose from the otherwise smooth landscape. Jane, electrified by memory and the events of the last few minutes, slipped Edward's hand into hers and pulled him along with her with sure, heavy steps. To the stained and dilapidated wooden shack that Jane thought would barely be standing behind the hill, but was in fact, a sturdy albeit small structure.

"You wouldn't remember this place, I daresay" said Conlis. Jane narrowed her eyes thoughtfully "no… I have vague recollections… I held the boards for Abbot and Bessie while they boarded the old place up; they said that… Mrs Reed despised the place, but she daren't demolish it due to my Uncle's love for it". Conlis grinned, impressed "and did you ever overhear the reason why he liked it so..?"


	4. The Damned Witch

Jane narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at the hut, paving her thumb softly over the healed splinter in her index finger: she could now recall how her tiny arms trembled under the scratchy, weighty bundle that Abbot and Bessie snatched from as they gossiped clandestinely. Conlis spied her struggle in her downcast eyes and tightened forehead "come to the window" the old woman beckoned.

Raising her eyes from the mossy soil to the crooked square window Conlis referred to, she obeyed. Through the thin and sporadic crust of grime, Jane and Edward could discern the hunched up figure of a woman; small and plain with limp copper ringlets dangling from her head. Her thin arms demonstrated surprising agility as they darted from glass vial to glass vial; some swilling with thin, brightly coloured liquids and others stained with them. She swept up shredded herbs, leaves and clutches of flower heads from wicker baskets and straw boxes held together by rough, tatty string, muttering to herself frantically all the while, whilst at the same time not incoherently. Edward's brow tensed with recognition "…Jane..?" he whispered

"Exactly" declared Conlis "this is one Jane Reed of Gateshead Hall, indulging in a favourite birth right hobby: Witchcraft!"

Jane Reed now smudged to a blur in Jane Rochester's eyes as they spilled with tears. She placed a quivering hand on the glass "this is my mother?" she asked; but no doubt fogged the knowledge that the woman she saw was indeed the very person who would give her life: disproportionate features, fragile looking bone structure, small stature; if not for the intense red tresses, the likeliness would be uncanny. As Jane and Edward watched her, their stunned and inquisitive gazes, their deep, short breaths: all were cut short as a man whirled past all three of them and burst joyfully into the cabin "Jane, Jane! Sarah has informed me of your news!" he cried as they pulled each other into a warm greeting hug. "You are referring to my engagement to James Eyre, dear brother?" she laughed as she skipped to a scratched wooden cupboard and hovered her hand thoughtfully over its inner contents.

"Of course, Jan… and what concoction is bubbling away today?" he chortled, daring to turn the leaf of a tattered looking book: an action which provoked a sharp, shooting look from Jane Reed, who darted toward him and whirled him into another embrace "a simple colouring charm, Robert, I was considering making those curtains in the drawing room a charming shade of sapphire!" she recited rapidly. His eye glinted with realisation of her hastiness at once "Jane, you're up to something" he accused quietly, flickering his eyes back and forth from the book before they were both launched into a brief scuffle. Robert's strength, however, was no match for hers: he snatched up the book and pierced it with his eyes. His eyes widened in shock and anger

"A revelation spell! And I suppose you've directed its evil eye toward Sarah! Jane, how could you!" As his heart descended into shock and fury, his posture slumped sadly, allowing Jane to softly extract the book from his hands "Robert, dear brother, I am sorry but… I do not trust her! I love you too well to allow you to bind yourself to her with her motives unchecked!"

"What of her motives! I will hear nothing of it, Jane…"

Rather than desist, Jane seared her brother with keen eyes "you have suspected her too, Robert" she declared solemnly, approaching the table his troubled line of vision had fallen on "listen to me" she reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder "the spell is a simple one… It does no harm or permanent alteration, it just _reveals_…"

Slowly he turned his head toward her, consideration and insecurity pooling in his eyes "how..?" he asked sheepishly.

"If our suspicions are true, and she only pretends affectation for your fortune, then her lust for money will make itself blatant to all who lay eyes upon her for the duration of the spell: it will occupy her skin"

Robert's eyes grew perfectly circular in fright "what does that mean!" he exclaimed.

"She will… turn green" Jane finished, sighing at her toils with verbal ambiguity and want for a more polite outcome. "Turn green!" cried her brother "is there no simpler way!"

"what could be simpler" Jane Reed replied pointedly "than her lust for fortune being made so _visible_? If it is not true, she will remain ordinary: the spell will not affect her".

There was silence before Conlis swept away its delicate veil that such quietness often has over such scenes "let us see the results of your mother's request and your uncle's acceptance"

* * *

><p>The colours and shapes of the scenario bled away and they were hoovered down into the sucking cylindrical envelope.<p>

The next room that spun to surround them was one Jane recognised in an instant; it was the dining room at Gateshead, where the younger Aunt Reed was already seated in her usual primly upright posture, drinking her tea with poise. Beside her sat her vigilant and rather nervous husband (and Jane's uncle) Robert Reed, whilst across the table, rather isolated but curiously attentive: her large green eyes rolling over each of Mrs Reed's movements, as if awaiting something, was Jane Reed…

"It was Mr Eyre himself who informed me of your… _charming_ news, Jane" Mrs Reed reported coldly, casting a mocking eye to her sister-in-law. "Yes" Jane Reed smiled in response "Mr Eyre and I are to be married next year"

"Next year?" Mrs Reed demanded; sarcasm dripping in her voice "that seems an awful long time, does it not, I suppose he cannot afford a sooner date, hmm?"

Jane Reed merely grinned at such a remark as Robert placed his hand tenderly on top of his wife's and said softly "Sarah, please…". Jane watched the falseness in her smile and listened to the hollowness of her voice as she cooed "of course, dearest" and, with a hint of gentle scorn, slipped her hand away to pluck him some toast from the rack, and proceeded to plonk it on his plate.

"I mean to say, darling, there is nothing wrong with marrying a lower class, was your grandmother and her family not poor but a cheerful folk?" Robert reassured, causing Mrs Reed to clunk her teacup down and throw a fiery glare at her husband "And they lived in squalor and indignity, until my grandmamma married my grandfather, and I will not suffer the same fate!" she spat, before caressing her stomach preciously "nor will _our children_!"

Robert nodded, joining her hand on her belly and beaming warmly "no, sweetheart, I understand" he said. He turned then to Jane "sister" he called "might I have a word?" and ushered Jane Reed from the room. Once outside in the drafty hallway, they commenced a hasty dialogue "no more, Jane, it is clear she loves _me_ and not my money, after this I will not have you trying to affect Sarah in such a way! I trust her, Jane!" he rattled off.

Jane Reed's eyes were gentle and probing and she concluded with purity of sureness in her voice: "no, Robert, you do not"

Just then a shriek came ripping from the dining room; the high pitched terror of Mrs Reed shrilled out. "Darling" Robert hastily muttered, his eyes gawping in alarm, shot through to the dining room where she his wife stood, partially hunched over where she had stood and toppled her chair over. His sister straightened up beside him as she saw a sickly olive dye wash over Mrs Reed's clear, porcelain skin.

Robert's head flashed to Jane, and she could see plainly the moistened eye and trembling bottom lip "Robert" she sighed piteously "I am sorry…"

His sobs and whimpers were instantly overthrown by Mrs Reed's angry cries reclaiming the room "WITCH!" she screeched "YOU! YOU DAMNED WITCH!"

"They mean that as an insult, I believe" Conlis chuckled curiously "how odd! Much like saying 'you damned bird' to an Owl".

The three figures of the Reeds froze and Jane, Edward and Conlis were dragged into the enchanted blackness once more.


	5. The Revelation

The feel of the cool, spongy, moss speckled field under their feet and the sweeping breeze which pressed against their skin as it gathered speed, eased the sinking impact of Jane and Edward's shock.

"Where are we now?" Edward demanded, flickering to face Conlis. "A field, of course" she replied "we are half a mile from Gateshead Hall"

"I walked here once" Jane remarked thoughtfully "John Reed began chasing me one day: I ran until… I chanced to go further than I intended: Robert Leaven as most vexed at having to look for me"

A thumping, unrythmic cacophony of noise crackled through Jane's uneasily stirring memories: a squirming throng of bobbing heads and torches trooped unevenly down the road. Edward and Jane curled into each other protectively "what _is_ this?" Jane shouted over the approaching din. Conlis' eyes glistened with sorrow. The crowd crumpled through to the farm the three were standing in and began to clumsily disassemble: revealing that there was a clot of people at the centre wrenching over a frantic rebel of the group: this rebel was Jane Reed

"My mother?" Jane cried, lunging forward only to crash into her husband's firm restraint.

"Nobody can see, feel or hear you" explained Conlis "we are here only in spirit, mind and magic: your bodies are still sound asleep in your home. You may, however, wish to brace yourself for what is to come" and with that, Edward eased his hold around Jane, but at the same time, not completely.

Jane's terrified sobbing quietly increased as the hustle of people scraped the dishevelled Jane Reed to a tremendous Makeshift stake that they thrust into the soggy ground and proceeded to line with bundles of shabbily chopped logs: as the shouting, demoniac chants hiked louder as they bound Jane Reed to the assembled site. The only glimpse of mercy came from a stern faced old woman wringing her hands in hesitancy

"There has not been a burning in this province; in the whole of England, in fact, since the last century!" she proclaimed "can we not reconsider her punishment?"

Here, an upright man boomed forward "her witch's charms have cast out every alternative punishment we could muster! We attempted to imprison her in her home of Gateshead hall under the care of Sarah Reed: she scorned the kind woman and broke free with her spells!"

"but their child!" the woman recommenced "what of the girl! With the father already dead, what must she do!"

This upright man's voice curdled spitefully as he answered "surely it is better the child live an orphan than die having learned and inherited her mother's wickedness!"

"Sarah Reed is a liar!" Jane Reed cried from the mound of wood "she has deceived you all! I shall not deny what I happen to be, but I have never used my powers for evil!"

Gasps of indignity flew from the crowd "it is _you! _You and all your kind who are deceitful!" cried the man, jabbing his arm forward to point accusingly at their victim "Mrs Sarah has informed us of your dastardly tricks that you inflicted mercilessly upon her and others: she is a charitable and good natured member of our community and you are the servant of Lucifer!"

This speech triggered solemn stutters of agreement and fury. They commenced their chant as they drew their torches nearer to the pile

"We have seen enough!" Conlis snapped, and the scene shivered to darkness: the final, whispered words of Jane Reed whipped through Conlis' tunnel of time travel "My little Jane... Daughter..."

* * *

><p>Jane did not wish to open her eyes; even when she felt herself sink familiarly into the drawing room carpet. It was only when she found herself enveloped by her husband's warm, insistent embrace; felt his hand stroke her hair and his voice wave through her tempestuously tossing mind that she allowed the diamonds of firelight softly pulsate into her vision. Conlis, who's angular face hung in sorrow and sympathy husked "I am sorry"<p>

Jane's hands slid to Edward's chest as she pulled away from him, kneading her tears away with shivering hands "You need not apologise; my confusion and gratitude far surpasses any anger I could ever bear towards you. I never suspected I would ever see my mother" she shuddered before again crumbling into tears - she calmly refused Edward's attempts at comfort and continued the pursuit of her racing thoughts "did my aunt play a significant hand in my mother's execution?"

"to a great degree, my dear" replied Conlis unhappily, hobbling to the couch to sit down "she _did_ spout lies about your mother's powers and her intentions behind them to the villagers, but before that, she was already considered somewhat of a pyrrhia"

Her hair swished limply over her pained features: her eyes swam with maddened confusion, but splashing within them was a solid sense of closure. He had to comfort her. "You should be departing now, I should think?" Edward said promptly "to wherever you happened to have come from?"

Conlis tittered dryly "I sense some anger in your voice, dear sir, for inadvertently wounding your beloved so, I suspect... but I cannot leave yet"

The Rochester's eyed Conlis carefully; suspiciously

"I still have you to manage with, Mr Rochester"


	6. Lugacius The Not Ordinary

As suspicion edged into the tense atmosphere, Jane straightened up and Edward frowned. Conlis, however, laughed her familiar, warm chuckle

"Dear me!" she cried "how ominous!"

"indeed" agreed Edward sarcastically.

"Of course I meant that your time has come dear, to know of _your_ origins! Unfortunately, however, I must indeed depart, but do not want! I shall leave you in the capable hands of a trusted colleague, but before I go…!"

Conlis plunged a hand into one of her magnificent robes' cylindrical pockets and withdrew from it three tattered, yellowing books ranging in size from a small square to a thick, hardbacked rectangle. She bundled them into Jane's arms.

The smallest read "_The Basics of Witchcraft & Wizardry"_; the medium sized read: _"Potions: Ingredients and their sources"_ when the biggest simply read: _"A Historical Document of Magyk"_

"Enjoy them, my dear" Conlis whispered seriously "as your mother did"

"Will we be seeing you again?" Jane replied softly, setting the books on the table.

"Of course you will, my dears" Conlis said, clandestinely slipping a glance at Jane's stomach. "You shall see me again, I am sure of it…"

The Sorceress' robe swayed heavily against the (still red) carpet as she turned. She stood still and slowly began a rythmless tap on the floor with her sandaled foot. Even Edward's blinded eye flickered closed at the searing white light that sprayed the room… after a quivering moment of intense terror, clutching each other against the invasion, Jane and Edward raised their heads from each other's necks to see Conlis gone: or rather, replaced…

"Greetings" said the new stranger gruffly; this one was male, and his dress not so enchanting as Crasblue's: He wore a crisp and dapper black suit with a bright red cravat, his dusty grey hair struck outward in a mane. "Conlis has informed you about me, has she not?" he said, tossing a thick blade of hair from his eyes and roughly rearranging it. Jane and Edward gasped: his eyes were yellow, with a slender, black, ovular slit in the centre.

"She has not then? My name is Lugacius Thropin: Councillor of Aeg". Thropin rolled his eyes over the room "charming" he smiled, turning to Edward "our kind enjoys comfort, do they not sir?"

"_Kind_!" Cried Edward, almost wild with confusion "what do you mean?"

Lugacius sighed frustratedly "I suppose it would be against regulations for Conlis to inform you. Are you, then, completely unaware of your Lycanthrope blood?"

The Rochester's silence revealed Lugacius' answer.

"Well then, brace yourselves, my friends, I _am_ sure you know what to expect by now"

Their fear of the violent whirl of their journey seemed to have evaporated and in what seemed to now be a simple sweep of wind, they were landed in a thicket of black, lightning fingered trees: a man stood alone in a wet-leafed clearing: a man with large dark eyes and thick, dishevelled charcoal hair and eyebrows. "You recognise this man, I trust?" Lugacius demanded. "Of course I do!" snapped Edward in reply "this is Alan Rochester, my father…" the forests wet, squelching rustles were promptly interrupted by loud, galloping snaps: a magnificent, terrifying beast soared through the trees in easy, striding leaps, the moonlight rolling over its agile, muscled shoulders.

Edward's father cried out in a tone which oddly resembled glee as he too saw it.

In a moment, the beast struck through the air and eclipsed the Alan Rochester's form, flattening him to the marshy forest floor.

"Darling!" her captive chuckled, beaming a familiar warm smile which hinted the origins of Jane's husbands own smile.

A brief swirl quivered in the clearing, and a woman sat straddling Mr Alan: she was a finely dressed woman with tightly curled, dark auburn hair and a sincere, deep laugh.

"Good lord…" Edward said hollowly "my mother… what is she?"

Though the answer could not have been more blatant.

"She was bitten when she was a child" explained Lugacius "an adventurous little thing, she was! Wanderlust, I believe it is called: strolled into the wrong part of the woods… Always a dangerous activity"

"How do you know this? How do you become so aware of our doings?" Jane asked.

"My, Conlis has 'left you in the lurch', as they say: Any human who is introduced in some way to our world (such as a half breed, a half human, half magical folk) is monitored by a Councillor; as you were by Conlis; Ms Eliza and Mr Edward were by me. Have you never wondered about your physical restlessness? Your muscular build? Your abrupt and not entirely unviolent temper?"

Edward's eyes were misty with pensiveness as the two figures in the clearing laughingly stumbled to their feet, slid their arms around each other and strolled from the wood with a languid gradualness.

"I have seen enough: take us back" Edward commanded wearily.

Lugacius raised his eyebrow questioningly "I think both of you could manage that…" he smiled.

Jane narrowed her eyes "how?" she asked; partially curious and partially eager.

"Let us all link hands" Lugacious instructed.

They did so.

"Envision the place and time you wish to go, and believe with all your might that you are there"

They did so.

"Now whisper the following words… _Kunata Fiathu_…"

They did so.


	7. Edward's Instructions

Their bodies were weightless; happy in their flexible flight before they ground to a halt on the Ferndean drawing room carpet once again.

"The landing always requires practice" Lugacius spluttered

"What is this incantation? What does it mean?" Jane asked. "A spell which any magical folk holds within their power, it allows us to see and make use of things which cannot be seen: such as the portals of time that exist anywhere and everywhere in the world: only with this incantation – and natural power – can one make use of them – from there, you simply imagine your location" recited Lugacius.

"Werewolves" Edward blurted thoughtfully "they transform..."

"You can also" replied Lugacius "if you so desire, and of course, if the night be right".

Edward scraped his hand through his hair "ridiculous!" he cried "I've never so much as come close to anything of the sort, and I haven't seen any other mortal come close!"

"Of course you haven't!" cried Lugacius, speeding toward him until his face was inches from Edward's: they both bore the grim, stony features of confrontation. "Wait" Jane called "what must one do to transform?"

Lugacius twirled round sharply to face her: his ochre eyes twitched "sing" he sighed "one must gather one's fury and rage and bellow it to the full moon: stand under it and picture it in all it's glory as you do so" he jerked his head to return Edward's still present, and still ready glare "can you say that you have done _that_, Rochester!"

Edward's anger deflated and smoothed into acceptance at last "my God" he breathed, shakily placing his hand to his forehead "there was... a time in Jamaica... Bertha had frightened another servant away and I... I walked in the gardens... It was so hot, I cried out: screamed in what I knew awaited me back at the house and in the future, and then... I found myself a few miles from Spanish Town... I assumed I had turned to wine in my desperation, as I had so many times before"

Lugacius tilted his head in acknowledgment "one never remembers their transformation .

"However, contrary to popular belief, we do not habitually dine on humans – though if we feel under direct threat, then we can be some hostile creatures indeed!" he finished

"How can we know what threatens him?" Jane asked worriedly "threatens me? Jane I would never follow this fellow's… instructions! I would never risk hurting you" Edward gruffed

"A Werewolf never attacks ones he loves: they are driven by instinct; and desire and protection are some of the most basic of instincts" Lugacius said.

"Our children?" Jane cried, suddenly worried "if we have children, they will be - "

"Quarter-breds" Lugacius said shortly "they may indulge in either of their ancestral hobbies – the magical blood, once entered the bloodline, continues its stretch into the family for an indeterminate amount of generations".

"Conlis did not inform us to such a great extent" Jane remarked, astounded. "No" agreed Lugacius "not to you – Sorcery is a subject that applies only to the individual – controlling one's metamorphoses is a relatively standardised procedure" here he snatched up a gold pocket watch with his hairy, clawed fingers "a-ha" he muttered "I do believe that my departure is nigh… You shall see me again, also"

Before any questioning syllables could speed from Jane and Edward's mouths, their sight was blistered by the bright light, and the room was empty once more.


	8. Abe's Origins

**12 years later**

If one were to walk into the study at Ferndean, they would see Abraham Rochester, the first born Rochester child crouched intently over three already heavily perused volumes: he was a small, rather thin boy with a thick mane of red hair and large, piercing dark eyes.

"Abe?" his mother's voice, gentle in its quizzical request, made him twist sharply to see his parents standing in the doorway, their faces straightening in recognition of the trio of books their son was observing.

"I kept those locked" Jane said sternly, raising her eyebrows at him. Abe's eyes stuttered to the far right corner of the room where a white conical hat and an untidy abundance of white hair was perched in a comfortable armchair: as she peered brightly, Jane could discern a smile.

"Conlis" Edward declared knowingly.

"I _do_ hope you do not mind, my dear, the key was very easy to imitate! The little scamp was so curious and eager: takes after his mama and papa, I'll wager!" the old Witch tittered

Abe's quick, percieving gaze batted between them. "It's all right, I have known that we are... _not ordinary_ for a time" he said surely, hanging his head in embarassed but slightly proud shame "I... I... Just once or twice, picked the locks and read them - but you musn't get angry! I am sorry, but I desired to know so dearly!"

Conlis chuckled a grin "a bright boy, to be sure!" she said "no child: you, as well as your mama and papa, are not of ordinary origins…"

The End


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